


it gets worse before it gets better

by clarkedarling



Series: modern sidlotte [2]
Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: A little angst, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkedarling/pseuds/clarkedarling
Summary: Later that evening, she decided to go to Sidney’s apartment. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have wanted to be alone. She knew what he was like, knew that he tended to shut people out instead of accepting help. However, the second he swung open the door she knew she had made the wrong decision.or, sidney and charlotte meet in university, before he breaks her heart. five years later they meet again and all the feelings come flooding back.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Series: modern sidlotte [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570747
Comments: 109
Kudos: 237





	1. 2019

**Author's Note:**

> it took me a while, but i'm really loving imagining sidney and charlotte in today's world. this initially started off as another one-shot, but i couldn't stop writing so it's now . . . this? hope you all enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that evening, she decided to go to Sidney’s apartment. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have wanted to be alone. She knew what he was like, knew that he tended to shut people out instead of accepting help. However, the second he swung open the door she knew she had made the wrong decision.
> 
> or, sidney and charlotte meet in university, before he breaks her heart. five years later they meet again and all the feelings come flooding back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me a while, but i'm really loving imagining sidney and charlotte in today's world. this initially started off as another one-shot, but i couldn't stop writing so it's now . . . this? hope you all enjoy.

_ **16th September, 2019** _

Somehow, Charlotte and Sidney had managed to flee the inaugural pub crawl that all first year students were encouraged to participate in. They had both decided they’d had enough when Crowe had climbed onto the bar and began to brandish the rifle hanging above the top shelf liquors; they hadn’t stayed long enough to find out if it was loaded.

Walking aimlessly around Bristol city centre, Charlotte found herself wondering just how she ended up with the notorious Sidney Parker. He was a third year student, which had meant he and his posse (including the inebriated Crowe) were in charge of planning the pub crawl. It was a tradition, intended to initiate first year students by getting them horrendously drunk and compelling them to do terrible things. For example, Charlotte’s fellow Architecture classmate, James Stringer, had been convinced to dive headfirst into Bristol Harbour in just his socks.

Halfway through the night, after nursing a gin and tonic for a good forty minutes, she noticed that Sidney was also holding back on the drink. All night her focus kept drifting over to him, as though he were magnetic. She knew of him before arriving at the university, after babysitting for his brother all throughout her final year at sixth form. She’d met him only a handful of times, but it was enough for a head-spinningly, heart-poundingly severe crush on him to develop.

It hadn’t escaped her that she’d ditched her friends, leaving them behind in a pub with a gun-wielding dipsomaniac whilst she wandered around the streets with some drop-dead gorgeous bloke. She knew she should have felt guilty, insisted they turned back. Instead, she continued on, knowing that she’d have to just beg for their forgiveness the next morning with pastries from the French bakers they all adored.

“Sorry tonight hasn’t been much fun,” Sidney finally said, after a few minutes of silence.

Charlotte didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t his fault she wasn’t enjoying herself; it had been her own jealousy. Eliza, the gorgeous blonde bombshell, with legs that went on for miles, had been clinging to him all night. Whilst she had tried to distract herself by flirting with other boys, namely James, she realised her heart wasn’t really in it. When James had stripped off and jumped into the river, she knew that it wasn’t even worth it either, as he was too inebriated to really respond.

“I’d like to say I had higher hopes for the night, but the minute Crowe and Babington got onboard, all my expectations went out the window,” he continued. “They wanted the evening to be fancy dress, but thank God I talked them out of it.”

Charlotte smirked at him. “Which one do you reckon would be the nun, and which one do you think would be the cheerleader?”

Sidney laughed. “You know, that’s not a bad guess,” he told her. “Crowe was going to be the nun, and Babington wanted to be a pirate.”

“And what would you have gone as?”

“A sexy fireman, of course.”

They both chuckled at this, though Anne was certain her face had flushed at the mere image of Sidney is a fireman’s outfit. Would he have forgone a shirt to complete the costume, she wondered? Before she grew even more flustered, she swiftly put all images of a shirtless Sidney Parker out of her mind.

The cold was biting at her exposed skin, which was in abundance due to the tiny dress she was wearing. She’d borrowed it from her roommate, Georgiana, or Gigi, who had decided that she needed to wear something spectacular if she was going to impress a _certain someone_ that night - of course, Gigi had thought that it was James she had been moping over, though Charlotte wasn’t planning on correcting her. So, she had agreed to wear the black dress, despite the initial struggle to squeeze her assets in, mostly to pacify her friends, although there had been a small part of her that hoped it would help her catch Sidney’s eye.

Now, she was paying the price. It was a particularly chilly night too, and she had nothing with her to keep her warm. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she tried to think of something else to say before he grew bored of her company.

“Do you miss Sanditon whilst you’re here?” she inquired, genuinely curious.

Sidney pondered his answer for a short while. “I guess I miss my family more,” he replied. “A town is just a town. I’ve spent a lot of time living here, there and everywhere, so I don’t tend to get sentimental about a single place.” He glanced sideways at her, and broke into that charming grin of his that had caused her to fall head over heels. “I suppose you’re going to disagree with me?”

Unable to pass up an opportunity to speak her mind, Charlotte sighed. “Of course I miss my family back in Willingden, but I don’t miss my village. Not like I miss Sanditon. There’s an energy there that’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I know you’re going to say that it’s my inexperience talking, and that I first need to explore the world before I make my mind up on it, but I can’t deny what I already feel so strongly about.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected from Sidney? A scolding, perhaps? He had once overheard her doing an impression of Tom to the children, and had been unforgiving in his harsh words, reprimanding them all for teasing someone so mercilessly - though, it hadn’t even been that good of an impression, and she wouldn’t have said she was being _that_ mean to warrant such a telling off. However, he surprised her by smiling again, the smile extending to his dark eyes.

“You’re a very passionate person, aren’t you Charlotte?”

The way he was looking at her made her feel rather self-conscious, as though he had noticed a bit of toothpaste on her chin. Determined to not let him see her vulnerability, she furrowed her brow. “Everyone should be passionate about things they care about. Aren’t you?”

“I’ve yet to find something to make me feel so strongly,” he sighed, his expression suddenly seeming so faraway and wistful.

“Surely you’ve been in love before?” Charlotte couldn’t help but ask. Her mind wandered back to Eliza, and how intimate the pair had appeared in the bar. Looking back, it had seemed rather one-sided.

Sidney pulled his lips into a thin, strained smile. Clearly she had touched upon a sore nerve. “Have you?” That wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a no.

“Well, no.” Her cheeks burned a little, as she looked down at her feet, almost numb in a pair of sky-high heels Gigi had also insisted she wear. “But, I’ve seen it. My parents, for example. They’ve been married nearly twenty-three years and remain as in love as ever. My older brother and his fiancé. Your brother and Mary. And of course I’ve read about it . . . “

Catching sight of Sidney’s bemused expression, she trailed off, rambling on about nonsensical rubbish. “Oh my God, what do I sound like? I talk about love despite never experiencing it, and I talk about travel despite never having left the country before. You must think I’m such an idiot.”

He chuckled slightly, and shook his head. “You’re certainly a lot of things, but you’re not an idiot.”

What did he mean by that? “I’ll take that as a compliment?”

“Here, it’s freezing,” he said, shrugging off his denim jacket. He placed it around her shoulders, his hands lingering a little too long. He was looking down at her, his gaze intense, his chestnut eyes drinking her in. Licking his lips, his hands travelled up her shoulders and neck, so that they reached her cheeks. “You’re shivering.”

Charlotte was afraid she’d forgotten how to breathe, her heart hammering away inside her chest. Despite her heels, she was still a good few inches shorter than him. “I bet you give all the girls your jacket,” she said, unable to stop herself.

His thumb grazed her cheekbone as he smiled at her. “You caught me,” he teased. His gaze flicked down at her, and he broke out into a grin that never ceased to make her knees weak. “Looks better on you than it does me.”

“Good luck getting it back,” she muttered, not paying much attention to anything besides the hungry look in his eyes.

She was certain he was going to kiss her, and she was certain she would have let him, if they hadn’t have heard the booming voice of Crowe call out to them. Behind Crowe were other familiar faces, who had clearly left the pub in search of their missing friends. Cursing under his breath, Sidney took her hand and swiftly led them down an alleyway, where he held her against the brick wall in the hope that they’d be hidden in the shadows. His plan worked, as they watched the gaggle of students pass them by, drunkenly clinging to one another.

Sidney was pressed incredibly close to her, his cider-smelling breath warm on her forehead, his hands either side of her on the wall. There was a small gap between them, barely a hairsbreadth, which she closed immediately. Tugging on his shirt so he was pulled downwards, their lips collided. It was messy and it was eager, all tongues and biting, their hands grabbing at one another. Was it how she imagined her first kiss with him? No, of course not. Usually, she pictured more candles, and it had always been inside, somewhere secluded and warm. However, she couldn’t deny that scenario this felt more fitting. Impulsive, fiery and wanton; that expressed them both.

As his mouth trailed down to her neck, nipping at the spot that never failed to make her moan, it became clear that neither one of them was going to be satisfied with just some steamy snogging. By some miracle, they made it to his flat, though he had barely got the key in the door when their hands began to roam again, lips locked. Clothes were shed, shoes were kicked off - his jacket, in the chaos, was thrown over the coffee table, knocking over a long-forgotten mug of cold tea.

Sidney hoisted her up, his hands gripping her bum as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His strength only turned her on more, her kisses longer and heavier, her fingers running through his copper locks. Leading them towards the bedroom, he proved himself to be an adept multi-tasker; not only was he holding her entire weight, walking and kissing, but he had also wiggled out of his shirt in the process. He laid her down on his sheets, and she couldn’t help but take a moment to bask in his appearance. His muscles, which she had always known were there, were now on full display.

He seemed to be doing the same thing as he pulled off his jeans, his eyes thirstily taking in the sight of her body. She was now only in her black underwear, her best lace set that had cost her an eye-watering amount, and despite the hefty price tag she was glad for them as the bra made her boobs look _incredible_. Sidney appeared to agree with her, as he leant down and began to leave rough kisses down her neck and between her cleavage.

He looked up at her, his fingers edging towards her hips. “Are you sure about this? We won’t be able to take it back.”

Charlotte took her chance to throw her legs over his torso as she turned him over so that she was on top. Raking her nails down his chest, she smiled. “I want you.”

The next morning, Charlotte half-expected a wave of guilt and regret to overcome her; their actions had been hasty, reckless even. However, when she awoke, sprawled across Sidney’s bare chest, she felt nothing but happiness.

-

To call them inseparable was an understatement. Charlotte and Sidney spent the next three months in a state of bliss, reminiscent of a honeymoon phase. After classes, Sidney would wait for her and whisk her away to his apartment for some alone time, or to a cosy little coffee shop they could hide in, or to the arthouse cinema where they’d watch marathons of their favourite classic films. They’d have dinner almost every night together, whether it would be at an array of restaurants on the high street or they’d take turns in cooking; he surprised her by making a mean pasta al pomodoro. On the weekends they would go out on picnics, go window-shopping or even take trips to the zoo or museums, and then in the evenings they would wile away their hours in Bristol’s best drinking establishments before returning home to each other’s embrace. And sex. There was _a lot of sex_. Steamy, passionate sex, sweet and tender sex, and everything in-between. It was heaven.

If their friends were sick of the constant PDA, they never said a thing. It had taken Gigi some time before she warmed to Sidney. She had spent many tedious hours trying to warn Charlotte that she’d only heard bad things about Sidney Parker, and that he’d 'ruin her happiness' - or other melodramatic statements to that effect. She appreciated Gigi’s concern, but swore that she had nothing to worry about. Esther and Clara were easier to persuade, especially when the arrival of Sidney into their friendship group also brought about the advent of his dashing, if a little pompous, friends.

Fears about what Tom and Mary would think - their former babysitter hooking with his brother was a bit of a red flag - prevented them from telling his family. In fact, they were hesitant to put a label on whatever it was they were. Charlotte didn’t think much on it. It was the 21st Century for God’s sake, they didn’t have to call it anything. Their friends knew they were together, so did other students around the university. The odd post on social media meant that other people knew about them too, including several of her siblings old enough to have phones. She had gotten several messages from her brothers and sisters, especially her elder brothers Will and Simon, and Allison too, and found herself completely dismissing her relationship (if you could call it that) with Sidney. Told them they were just friends, that they were just having fun.

It became harder to tell herself that the longer she slept beside Sidney. He’d gone out and bought a toothbrush for her and reshuffled his drawers so she could tuck away some clothes for when she stayed the night. There had even been a small discussion on her cancelling her residency in the university halls for the remainder of the year so that she could move in with him. It had been predominantly a means of saving money, but Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder if this was them taking the next step.

However, this all came crashing down one night during festive drinks at the local student bar.

It was a week until Christmas, and whilst everyone was going home for the holidays, Charlotte had planned on staying at Sidney’s until Christmas Eve, where the pair of them would drive up to her parents. He had been the one to suggest it, had wanted to meet her family. He’d said a few words to Allison over FaceTime, but that was all. She was over the moon, if a little nervous. She had never brought a boy home before, and Sidney Parker felt like jumping in at the deep end.

The Monday prior had been Sidney’s twenty-second birthday. He hadn’t wanted a big fuss made over him, so Charlotte had cooked him his favourite meal, lamb with rosemary and port served with roast potatoes, and bought the most expensive bottle of wine she could find in M&S. She’d gone the extra mile by curating a playlist of songs she knew he loved, and slipped on a new lingerie set in a sultry shade of violet. The night had been a success; that was when he had suggested spending Christmas together.

On the Wednesday, they met with their friends for drinks in town. Charlotte was wearing a burnt orange, floral dress that she had fallen completely in love with whilst shopping with Gigi. It was flattering, emphasising her curves, and had made Sidney’s eyes pop out of his head when he saw her in it.

“Damn, you look good Lottie,” he had said, his hand trailing down her back to rest on her bum, which he gave a cheeky squeeze. She couldn’t resist him when he called her that.

He looked particularly swoon-worthy too in a tight white shirt and beige checkered trousers. They shared a brief moment in the lift where they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, until the doors opened and revealed their friends on the other side. Adjusting the hem of her dress, Charlotte felt a blush burn her cheeks as they wolf-whistled.

“Jesus, I swear you two are the horniest people I know,” Gigi sighed, screwing her face up in mock-disgust.

Reaching out, Charlotte wiped her lipstick smudges off of Sidney’s face, who grinned down at her. “Just wait until later,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

The evening started off riotous, with the group managing to nab the coveted table in the back of the bar. A steady stream of shots kept them satiated, with an occasional round of cocktails or pints being bought. Just when somebody suggested moving to the club down the road that played the best hits of the 00’s, Sidney’s phone began to ring. Initially, he ignored it, after glancing down and seeing that it was just Tom. However he soon gave in when his brother persisted, calling a further three times. He excused himself from the group and stepped outside.

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn’t returned. Charlotte volunteered to check on him, finishing her gin and tonic in one swift swig. She found him, leant against the wall, a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Would your girlfriend notice if we got out of here?” she teased, biting her lip as she rested next to him. She pulled the cigarette from his lips and took a puff. That usually turned him on, seeing her take dominance, but in this case it appeared to irritate him.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered, taking it off her. He flicked the cigarette on the floor - there were several more dotted around him, clearly not his first of the night. Something about his hunched demeanour worried her, made her fear something had happened, something on the phone with Tom. 

She attempted a gentler approach, reaching over and brushing his cheek with her thumb. “What’s wrong?” He flinched from her touch, which stung. She tried not to let her hurt show, but feared the copious amount of alcohol in her system had made her vulnerable. “Sidney?”

Peeling himself off of the wall, he sighed, not once looking at her. “I’ve got to go,” he told her, hailing a taxi. “You can stay at Gigi’s right?”

Before she could answer, he climbed into the back of a taxi and drove off. She watched him disappear in disbelief. Feeling as though she had been slapped in the face, she debated for a long time whether she should go back in or hop in a cap and head home. Not wanting to overreact, she thought over his actions rationally, and knew that whatever news came with Tom’s phone call had been awful.

Later that evening, she decided to go to Sidney’s apartment. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have wanted to be alone. She knew what he was like, knew that he tended to shut people out instead of accepting help. However, the second he swung open the door she knew she had made the wrong decision.

All colour was drained from his face, save for under his eyes, which was a a blotchy crimson colour that indicated he had been crying. His expression completely blanched when he saw her, his fists clenching and his jaw tightening. He tried to close the door on her and would have succeeded in shutting her out if she hadn’t slipped in, under his arm.

“Sidney, please,” she said, as softly as she could. He was starting to scare her, starting to make her fear the worst. Had somebody died? Was one of the kids sick?

Shaking his head, he walked off into the kitchen where he proceeded to pour himself a glass of top-shelf whisky - it wasn’t his first either, by the look of the bottle. He downed it in one gulp, and began to pour another one. His hands seemed to be shaking a little, his whole body rigid.

“You’re frightening me,” she said, stepping forwards. “What is it? Please, I want to help - ”

“I’m not a child!” he shouted with such force she felt herself tremble. He had never raised his voice at her before. She knew he had a temper, been on the receiving end of it a few times, though had never seen or heard him yell. It shocked her, but stunned her even more when he continued. “Stop treating me like some kid you’re babysitting!”

“I’m not - “

“You’re always trying to manage everything, fix things. Not everything needs to be fixed!”

Charlotte waited for him to break a smile, beg her for her forgiveness. She hoped it was all just a joke, a horribly thought-out joke, but a joke nonetheless. However, there was no humour to his features. Instead, his attitude was closed off, an anger in him she hadn’t thought him capable of. An anger directed at her.

She stepped forward, a little wobbly on her high heeled shoes, anxiously. “You can tell me what’s happened.”

He laughed, a callous chuckle that made was so uncharacteristic of him. “What, so you can rub my belly and tell me it’ll all be ok? Give me a treat afterwards?” He finished his whisky, and threw the glass at the wall. It shattered into a thousand, jagged fragments that flew everywhere, making her jump backwards, a small scream escaping her lips. Sidney didn’t seem to care, as he hung his head, his palms facedown on his kitchen counter. "You do this to people, you know. Treat them like kids. Patronise them. It’s so you can feel better about yourself, feel as though you’re better than them.”

Her breathing was ragged, her heart beating erratically in her chest. This behaviour, it wasn’t like him. It terrified her, not because she was scared what he was going to do her, but about what had led to it. Something horrific must have happened.

“Sidney - “

“Shut up! Your whining, your fussing - it’s suffocating. You’re so suffocating.” He glanced up at her now, and the contempt in his eyes cut far deeper than any shards of the broken glass could. He pointed a finger at her, accusingly. “You act so sweet, so kind to make up for the fact that you’re actually just some dull farm girl who’s university acceptance letter was the most exciting thing to happen in your uninteresting and uneventful little life.”

Charlotte didn’t want to listen anymore. She wanted to plug her ears, and rewind to a few hours earlier, when he had looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his life. “Stop it. Please, you don’t mean any of this.”

He laughed again, and she thought she was going to cry. “Get over yourself, Charlotte,” he dismissed, walking around the counter to collapse onto the sofa. He even threw his legs up onto the coffee table, as though to prove his impassibility. “It’s been . . . fun, but I’ve had enough now.”

“_Had enough?_” she echoed, incredulously. Was this really his half-hearted attempt at breaking up with her?

“What more do you want me to say?” he asked, crossing his arms. “You were a good fuck, but I’m bored. Time to move on.”

She regretted ever stepping foot into his apartment that evening. She should have just let him stew. “_A good fuck?_” Was that how he summarised their relationship?

“Is there a parrot in here?” he spat, venomously. He sighed, and sat up. “Don’t you think it was odd that after nearly a year of knowing you, after saying barely two words to you, I pull you aside one night and confess my feelings to you? You were wearing that black dress that, let’s face it, made you look a bit like a slut, so I thought I’d go for it.” He was stood up now, crossing the room so that he stood in front of her. The tears were falling down her face freely now, her insides churning. She felt so small, so insignificant, a feeling only worsened when Sidney stood across from her, towering over her as he continued spewing hateful poison. "You slept with me that first night, and it wasn’t bad. You were easy, and easy to please. A few dinners here, a few crappy black and white movies there, and you opened your legs to me every time. If I said the right things, you’d even go down on your knees, suck my - ”

She slapped him, hard and hastily, her every emotion bubbling to the surface. A bright red mark appeared instantly, and while it seemed to have worked in quietening him, she felt no better for it. “You bastard. You cruel bastard.”

Sidney cocked his head and grinned, a sadistic sort of smile that made her feel sick to the stomach. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, and somehow that was worse than if he’d continued saying bitter things.

“You decided you were fed up of me between that phone call and now then?”

“That fucking phone call!” he growled. “It was just Tom, telling me about a new business deal he’s brokering. Ask him yourself, if you want!”

Charlotte roughly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, holding back a sob. She considered fetching all her belongings that were scattered about the place, but couldn’t bear to be in his presence any longer. She made her way towards the door and opened it, far too humiliated to throw some intelligent and stinging remark, when she came face-to-face with Eliza Campion, the leggy blonde bombshell she had been so intimated by three months ago.

“Caroline?” she asked, her pinched face painted with as much cosmetics possible. She was wearing some skimpy dress that accentuated her legs, her blonde hair coiffed and styled expertly. Either she truly didn’t know Charlotte’s name, or she was attempting to be all aloof and coy. She peered her head in and flashed Sidney a bright smile. “You did text me, didn’t you? Wanted to talk?"

Turning to face Sidney, Charlotte surveyed him with a newfound loathing. “You couldn’t have waited a whole night until you had another girl on the go?” she asked, hot tears pricking her eyes, the sob beginning to choke her. “You’re disgusting.”

With that she left, not looking back once. She didn’t even make it to the lift until her pain started to pour out of her, collapsing in the hallway as her knees gave way. Sidney Parker had well and truly broken her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for charlotte's orange dress, i pictured this; https://www.instagram.com/p/BtWFVkVBi6V/


	2. 2024: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five years after their disastrous break-up, charlotte and sidney are forced to see each other once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the support, it's been so lovely reading everyone's comments! i'm so sorry about the wait, i'd expected to post this update a few days ago, but wasn't sure quite how to wrap the chapter up - i had intended to have them make-up, but felt that it would be a little forced? anyway, it just means that there will be four chapters instead of three!
> 
> please enjoy!

** _21st December 2024_ **

Once again, Charlotte found herself in a bedroom that wasn’t her own. As noiselessly as she could muster, she tilted her head to the side to see who she had gone home with this time, and was mortified to see that the slumbering man beside her was in fact Robert Blackburn, one of the partners at the architectural firm she was interning at. Looking at him now, slack-jawed and snoring, she realised that all his charm and appeal came from the way he spoke, his take-no-prisoners attitude, and his polished attire - now that he was unconscious she recoiled from him. He was handsome, for a man over forty, but not enough to make her consider spending the morning with him.

Ignoring her pounding head, she slipped out of the sheets, and began to search for her clothes. Her phone lay on the bedside table, and a quick glance at it told her the time was 6:42am, and that she had three texts from Gigi and a missed call. Shimmying back into her dress from the night before, she began to strap on her shoes, when she heard what sounded like a growl, coming from the bed.

Blackburn was sat up, his usually slicked back hair now sticking out in wild directions, highlighting just how bald he was starting to go at the back. He was looking at her with an uncomfortable lust, his eyes trailing up and down her body, as if he hadn’t seen enough of it the previous evening.

“No need to rush off,” he muttered, patting the space beside him. “I’m desperate for a round two. Or is it three?”

Charlotte resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He’d fallen asleep after finishing, ten minutes into thrusting awkwardly on top of her, leaving her unsatisfied and reeking of expensive cologne and booze. “I have a wedding to get ready for in a few hours.”

He snorted. “A wedding? I didn’t know you were engaged. My, my, you are a little minx aren’t you Miss Heywood.”

“No, it’s not my wedding,” she hastily assured him. “Just a friend’s. But I’m getting the train down at quarter past seven, so I really need to go now."

Just as she started to walk towards the door, he called out her name again. “Sod the train, I’ll get someone to drive you,” he dismissed. He threw his arms behind his head, his erection painfully evident now. “Come back to bed, I’m throbbing.”

This time Charlotte held back the impulse to hurl. “I’m meeting a friend at the station, you see,” she continued, desperate to leave.

Now that it was clear he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, Blackburn huffed, much like a petulant child. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll see you on Monday then, bright and early. Wear something tight.”

With that, she left, as quickly as she could. Fully aware that she wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact she was doing a walk of shame (the judgemental glances she was getting on the street assured her of that) she attempted to tame her hair with her fingers as she rushed towards James Stringer towards Platform 14 at Waterloo Station. He was already dressed in his suit, a grey tweed jacket with a fetching lilac tie and matching tweed trousers, and looked rather dashing. He was clutching a bag, a bottle of cava peeking out. He gave her a wide smile when he saw her, though it faltered slightly when he saw her appearance.

“You look dreadful,” he blurted, his brow furrowed.

Charlotte slapped his shoulder. “Way to make a girl feel good!” she exclaimed, then held up her bag. “It’s all in here, I didn’t have time this morning to get ready. I’m gonna have to shower at the bed and breakfast.”

As they made their way onto the train, she could see James’s brain whirring away. “You stayed quite late last night,” he pointed out. He was referring to the firm’s Christmas party they’d both attended, rather reluctantly. He’d left first, but not before warning her off making any bad decisions - a warning she clearly did not heed. “Who did you go home with?”

Knowing she couldn’t keep a secret from him, she sighed and collapsed into a seat. “Blackburn.”

James’s face was a picture of mixed horror and amusement. “Robert Blackburn? As in CEO and company partner Robert Blackburn? Jesus, Charlotte, what were you thinking?”

She held her head in her hands, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I know, I know,” she groaned. “It wasn’t even that good. You should have seen the face he pulled.” She then did an imitation of the contorted expression Blackburn had made, which caused James to burst out laughing.

“What am I missing?” came a voice from beside them. Gigi was stood, wearing a stunning saffron chiffon dress. Beaming, she gave James and Charlotte kisses on the cheek, seating herself next to the latter.

“Charlotte’s only gone and slept with our boss,” James burst out.

Gigi gasped, reaching out and clasping her hand over Charlotte’s. “No! Really?” she cried. Unsurprisingly, she appeared rather proud of her friend, a great big beam breaking out across her features. “Good on you, girl! Which one, Blackburn or Davies? What’s he look like? Is this gonna be a regular thing?”

“God no,” Charlotte crinkled her nose up in disgust. “It was Blackburn, and it was _definitely_ a one time deal. There’s no way I’d have let him see me naked if I hadn’t have gotten blind drunk last night. Thinking about it makes my skin crawl.” She shuddered, half for effect, half because it genuinely made her nauseous.

“And he looks a little like Sean Bean,” James added, with a teasing grin.

Gigi raised her eyebrows, humming. “That’s not that bad. Although - _Game of Thrones_ Sean Bean or _Sharpe_ Sean Bean?”

“Definitely _Game of Thrones_ Sean Bean,” Charlotte decided. “With shorter hair and a snobbier accent.”

They all shared a laugh, as the train conductor came around to check their tickets. He commented on their smart clothes, then took a cursory glance at Charlotte, her mascara smudged and her dress wrinkled, and scurried off.

“I can’t look that bad,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “Blackburn said this morning, and I quote _‘I’m desperate for round two’_.” At this they all fell apart howling again, disrupting several other commuters, who shot them furious looks over their newspapers.

Charlotte knew they were in Sanditon before the train even pulled up to the station. The sea air, of which the town was famous for, filled her lungs like a tonic, the sound of seagulls bringing about a sense of nostalgia. Grinning, they stepped off the train onto the platform, and noticed that several other of the passengers got off with them, also dressed in wedding attire. They decided to walk to the bed and breakfast, as it was only a few short minutes away from the station. She rushed inside, with only an hour before they were all expected to be at the chapel. Gigi brushed and dried her hair after a quick shower, in which she was certain she missed patches on her leg after hurriedly shaving as much as possible, whilst James waited downstairs. He didn’t mind waiting, for he had met some people he’d gone to school with and was having a catch-up.

After applying her lipgloss, she slid on her lilac dress, a beautiful satin gown that Gigi had helped find in a boutique in Covent Garden. Looking at herself in the mirror, twirling ever so slightly, Charlotte felt prettier than she had done in months. Her usually chestnut brown hair had little honey coloured streaks running through it, a side effect of her holiday in Antigua with Gigi over the summer. Her make-up was soft, but accentuated her features, the matching lavender eye shadow bringing out the dark amber flecks in her eyes.

“It’s ok if you’re nervous,” Gigi said softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “You haven’t seen him in five years. It’s natural.”

She was, of course, referring to Sidney Parker. After brutally breaking up, news had spread that he was in fact engaged to none other than Eliza Campion. It was a _‘whirlwind romance’_, if she was remembering the headlines correctly. They were married in the March, and honeymooned in Italy, on the Amalfi Coast after an all-expenses paid wedding in her family’s country estate in Epsom; she had seen the endless stream of yacht and sunset pictures on Instagram. Charlotte had even received an invitation, to further rub salt in the wound, courtesy of Tom and Mary, who had no clue of the events that had occurred before Christmas. She of course declined, though her friends had suggested they hijack the ceremony, to throw sheep dung at the bride as she walked down the aisle, or dump the cake on the groom during the toasts.

It was during this period of grieving, for lack of a better word, that she became rather close to James. He was a good friend, consoling her and cheering her up, giving her a shoulder to cry on, until one evening she kissed him. She hadn’t been quite sure why she had, though suspected it was because she was craving the affection she was missing from the one person she truly desired it from. Soon she found herself in a relationship she didn’t really want to be in. It lasted for a few months, in which James was a loyal and dutiful boyfriend. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t nice, but it wasn’t exciting, it wasn’t intense. _He wasn’t Sidney._ Eventually they ended things, though remained close friends. They had even found their first job out of university together, circling adverts in the paper and heading to interviews with one another. She watched as James went on all kinds of dates; blind dates, Tinder dates, and dates with girls he’d met on the tube. Some were successful, others were complete fiascos. All the while, Charlotte hopped from one stranger’s bed to another, hoping to find some semblance of passion she’d had with Sidney.

In five years she couldn’t count the amount of men she’d slept with. Nine times out of ten she’d regretted it the moment she’d woken up, naked and hungover. She knew it was unhealthy, knew that it couldn’t continue for much longer. She was twenty-three, needed to sort herself out. She was sharing a flat with Gigi, who didn’t really have to share as she was more than comfortable with her inheritance. She was aware that Gigi had plans to move in with her boyfriend, Otis, but had put off broaching the subject with her as Gigi knew she didn’t have the financial means to rent in London on her own. To top it all off, she was almost certainly going to have to start looking for a new job now that she’d slept with the boss. She liked _Blackburn & Davies_, but an internship wasn’t what she’d had hoped to be doing, even if it was paid. It was all dreadfully embarrassing.

“Are you still going through with the plan?” Gigi broke her train of thought.

Charlotte nodded. “James said he’s looking forward to acting a couple again,” she replied. “Assured me he always enjoyed drama at school.”

She didn’t feel great about deceiving their friends, pretending to be back together, but it was much better than the alternative; facing Sidney alone, making it obvious that she had been completely unable to move on from him, whilst he stood hand-in-hand with his beautiful wife.

Gigi rolled her eyes, laughing. “He’s just glad cause it means he gets to go to this wedding with the best looking girl,” she told her, then added with a coy smile; “Well, second best looking.”

When James saw Charlotte in her dress, he broke out into a fantastic grin, his eyes wide. “You look . . . incredible,” he complimented her, as he offered her his arm. She took it, gladly.

They all made their way down to the chapel, which was a short fifteen minute walk down a sloped pavement. They were all laughing and joking about one thing or another, their laughter carrying through the town so that several people turned to look at them. Charlotte was completely aware that they were just trying to keep her calm, which made her all the more grateful for her friends.

Outside the church she spotted Tom and Mary, wrangling their four children. Alicia and Jenny, now twelve and ten, looked adorable in matching dresses, the colour of candy floss. Their hair had been curled into ringlets, little bows clipped in. Henry, who was now a rambunctious eight year old, was running around the patch of grass, a LEGO airplane held above his head. Desperate to play, five year old James was chasing after his brother, despite his parents’s attempts to keep him still for fear of his suit getting ruined.

The girls were the first to see her, and rushed over immediately, crying out her name. She smiled, giving them both big hugs, taken aback by just how tall they were. Alicia was almost at her chin, Jenny not far behind. “Look at you two!” she exclaimed, her hands under their chins.

“Mummy, look who it is!” Jenny called out.

When they reached the chapel doors, Tom and Mary enveloped all her in a hug. It had been a year since they’d last seen each other. Charlotte had made a habit out of visiting Sanditon at least once every few months to come and see them whilst she was at university, in spite of the situation with Sidney. However, since she’d moved to London, her visits had almost ceased. The last she’d seen them was at James’s fourth birthday party, which she’d only attended after hearing Sidney was unable to go due to a work commitment.

“Gosh Charlotte, you look lovely,” Mary cooed, looking rather fetching herself in a modest teal floral dress. “Doesn’t she, Tom?”

Tom nodded, as he shook James’s hand. “Yes, very nice,” he agreed. “Glad to see you two back together. Always thought you two made a smart match.”

Charlotte blushed slightly, as she introduced Gigi. Soon, they were all whisked into the chapel and ushered towards their seats. As Tom took his place at the front, she felt herself freeze, her whole body going rigid. Stood beside his brother was Sidney, as handsome as ever, if more so, in a pale navy suit. He’d grown a beard, which only made him appear more distinguished, and at the same time rather rugged. He didn’t see her, his gaze firmly on Tom. However, as the pair began to talk, it became clear that Tom was telling him about her arrival, as they both turned to look at her.

The second their eyes met, Charlotte felt like naive eighteen year old girl again under his scrutiny. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, the sound of chatter drowned out. He was clearly surprised to see her, his lips parting slightly, eyes wide. He didn’t look away, and for a split second she thought he was going to approach her.

Suddenly, she felt somebody grab her wrist, and time began to tick again. James had reached out to lead her to her seat, as the church organ had began to play, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. He pressed his lips to her ear so that only she could hear when he asked her; “Are you alright?”

She could only nod in response, though it wasn’t an honest answer. In truth, she was wretched; Sidney still hadn’t stopped looking at her, his eyes causing her skin to prickle. She couldn’t bring herself to look back, instead turning her attention to the doorway.

In walked Arthur, cheeks rosy, beaming like a child on Christmas morning. He was wearing a rather flamboyant suit; a rich emerald colour, with an eye-catching fuchsia peony in his lapel. Diana was by his side, of course, in a splendid maroon dress, her lipstick matching her brother’s flower. When they reached the altar, Diana kissed her brother on both cheeks, contented tears starting to fall, as she gave Arthur away.

The other groom was Vincent Rowe, a former semi-professional rugby player who moved to Sanditon to open his own bakery. A remarkably good-looking man, Vincent had also started to cry, which set only set off Arthur too. Clutching each other’s hands as the priest began the ritual, they appeared more in love that most couples that walked the aisle. Their vows were beautiful, causing more tears to fall from guests in the pews.

A small smile breaking out on her face, her battered heart bursting, Charlotte couldn’t help but cast a glimpse over at Sidney. He was grinning, watching his brother slide a wedding ring onto his new husband. As though he could feel her eyes on him, he glanced back at her. Immediately she looked away, and began to clap with the rest of the chapel as it was announced that Arthur and Vincent were married.

The reception was incredible; the decorations were rather festive, which a large Christmas tree complete with baubles and presents underneath adorning the entrance at Denham Place. Inside the dining hall, the Christmas theme was continued, with fairy lights strung across the room, holly wreaths hanging on the walls and mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

After the meal - a spectacular five course dinner, with a mouthwatering baked cod and samphire that she was going to be dreaming of for weeks - James made good on his promise, holding her hand as they walked around the main hall, not once straying from her side as they mingled with other guests. They congratulated the happy couple, who both demanded she reserve them each a dance later that evening.

“Come on, before a queue of men start lining up to dance with you,” James joked, as he led her to the dance floor. _Superstition_ by Stevie Wonder was playing, and he took her hands, twirling and spinning her around, making her giggle. When the upbeat song finished, and a less jovial _Everywhere_ by Fleetwood Mac began, he pulled her in a little closer, his arm snaking around her waist. “He’s looking, you know. Been at looking at you all day.”

Charlotte resisted the urge to turn around, to stare back, and instead took a deep sigh. “Thank you for coming with me,” she said, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. “I don’t think I could have faced him alone.”

James gave her a smile that eased her a little. “I’m always here for you,” he assured her. Once upon a time, Charlotte was all to aware of his feelings for her. It had been one of the reasons they’d broken up; his affection for her was much deeper than hers for him, and she knew she was only leading him on by continuing their relationship. That had been nearly four years ago now, and since then they’d both moved on.

“May I cut in?” came a voice from beside them, a voice that never ceased to send a shiver down her spine.

Sidney was stood next to them, appearing almost anxious, fiddling with his hands. Ever loyal, James waited for her to say anything before he left, but not before giving her a swift kiss on the cheek and shooting daggers at Sidney.

Determined not to let him see her vulnerability, Charlotte remained stoic. They didn’t touch each other, which she was glad for because it would have sent her body into overdrive. _Sound of the Underground_ by Girls Aloud began, and she wast grateful for the fast tempo as it allowed her to dance freely without getting too close to him. The music was also rather loud, so it prevented a conversation from happening. This clearly frustrated him, as he ended up gesturing for her to follow him off the dance floor and over to where a waiter was holding a tray of drinks. She took a cranberry cocktail, impulsively.

“It’s good to see you again,” Sidney finally said. She couldn’t help but notice his stiff posture. “Been a while.”

Unsure of how to react and what to say, she realised that she had spent so long pushing their inevitable meeting out of her mind that now they were face-to-face, her mind had gone completely blank. Eventually, she nodded. “Yes, it has.”

The atmosphere between them was incredibly awkward. “I heard you work in London now? At _Blackburn & Davies_, the architecture firm? That’s a great . . . I mean, you . . . it’s exactly . . . it’s a good job.” Was he really stuttering?

“It is. We’re - me and James, I mean - are only interns, but it’s a good place to get our foot in the doors.” God, she felt as though she was stuck in a forced conversation with a distant relative.

At this he glanced over to were James was dancing with Gigi, the pair not doing a very subtle job of keeping an eye on their friend. “You two look happy,” he commented, his smile strained.

“We are. He’s good to me.” Whilst the first part was an outright lie, the second bit wasn’t; James was truly a fantastic friend.

At this he gulped, glancing down at his feet. “Well, it’s the least you deserve,” he replied. “I remember Mary told me you two broke up, though? A while ago now.”

“Keeping tabs on me, I see?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, we did. That was nearly four years ago. Presumably you know we work together? Early this year we realised there were still feelings there and decided to give things another try.” She didn’t want to talk too much about her pretend relationship with James, in case she said something off-script. "What about you? I haven’t seen Mrs Parker anywhere.” Two could play at that game.

Sidney took a drink from the tray, as he gave a half-hearted smile. “Oh, I believe she’s in Cancun somewhere. Or is it Cannes? I forget.”

Furrowing her brow, Charlotte didn’t quite understand. “Misplaced your wife? How careless.” As hard as she tried to remain indifferent, she could hear the bitterness to her tone.

He laughed, a hearty sound that she hadn’t realised just how much she had missed. “Eliza isn’t my wife anymore. Hasn’t been for the last . . . eight months now. Legally speaking. We were over a long time before that.”

She could have thrown up, there and then. What an idiot she was! She’d brought along James so that she didn’t appear lonely and sad (pathetic, she knew) and Sidney had only gone and gotten divorced.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, taking a hefty swig of her drink, her mouth suddenly dry.

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

Before she could find out what he meant by that, she watched as he reached out and placed his hand on her forearm. Nearly dropping her glass in shock, she flinched immediately, stepping away from him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have - " he began, in a small voice that indicated his regret.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she told him, in as steady a tone as she could manage. His whole jittery manner, his sudden politeness - it was all far too difficult for her to comprehend. She was furious that she had resorted to a fake relationship in order to feel confident enough to face him, and here he was, tugging at her heartstrings. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re playing at, asking me about work and relationships, _being nice_. You have to understand that this is weird, right? After the way you ended things, you don’t get to act as if nothing happened. You don’t get to be the good guy.”

Sidney, for the first time in the whole time she had known him, appeared completely defenceless. “Of course not, I’m sorry - "

Making good on their promise to look out for her, Gigi and James were upon them the second Charlotte began to display signs of distress. James slipped an arm around her waist, holding her secure by his side, which she was rather grateful for as it caused Sidney to step backwards, taking the hint.

“Come on babe, little Henry and James were asking after you,” he muttered, helping to lead her away from Sidney.

-

Charlotte’s reaction to seeing Sidney again after five years wasn’t exactly a healthy reaction, nor was it the mature and sensible one; she got blindingly drunk. Any cocktails thrust her way by a waiter, she drank. Any glass of bubbly raised for a toast, she drank. She was still in control of her words when she’d span around the dance floor with Alicia and Jenny, and still sober enough to give Henry and James piggyback rides each. However, when Mary took them back to the house when they began to yawn, Charlotte took that as her cue to continue knocking back the booze.

Fortunately, the whole wedding was a rather raucous affair, which meant that she wasn’t the drunkest person in the room by a long shot. That title fell upon Vincent’s rugby mates, who had invented a series of drinking games, all of which the rules were blurred and nobody really knew what was happening. It wasn’t an issue, however, as the only true goal was to get as plastered as possible. They managed to convince her to join a round, where they each had to take a shot of tequila every time the DJ bit his bottom lip.

“He did it again!” one of them cried out, signalling for the group of five rugby players and Charlotte to take a shot.

The tart spirit was like an electric shock to her tastebuds, as she slammed the empty glass down on the table. They all cheered, a couple of them clapping her on the back. “You’re a machine!” laughed the heavily-tattooed one. She could have sworn he’d said his name was Yorkie - clearly a nickname derived from his thick Yorkshire accent.

“You lads need to catch up!” she threw back, helping herself to another shot - see, no rules or restrictions, just get drunk.

“Why don’t we take this outside?” whispered Yorkie, his hand suddenly on her bum, his foul, brandy-smelling breath hot on her face.

She stepped away from him, though a little unsteady. “I have a boyfriend,” she lied, quickly.

Yorkie looked around, shrugging. “I don’t see him. Listen, doll, I’ll show you a good time.”

What disgusted Charlotte was that she was considering his offer. He was six foot five inches of pure muscle and tattoos - he could have been worse looking. However, before she could respond, she watched as Sidney made his way over to them, his dark eyes fixed on her.

“Get your hands off her,” he growled, standing between her and the inebriated rugby player.

As expected, Yorkie merely snorted, looking down at his challenger. “Is this your infamous boyfriend?” he asked her, gesturing to Sidney with mild amusement.

Her head was beginning to spin, and she was in no mood to argue or clash. “No, this is my ex . . . what even were we? I mean, were we a couple? Everyone else seemed to think so, but - ”

Ignoring her drunken ramblings, Sidney instead led her away from the rabble of rugby players, steering her outside, where the bracing cold combination of baltic winter temperatures and the unforgiving sea breeze shocked her into silence. Desperate for warmth, she tried to get back inside Denham Place, but was held back by Sidney.

“No you don’t,” he sighed. “You’re going to stay out here for a while until you sober up.”

She huffed, crossing her arms like a petulant teenager. “What gives you the right to boss me around?” As expected, he didn’t say anything, instead pulled out his box of Marlboro’s and a lighter. So, she tried again to get a reaction out of him. "Why did you stop me from talking to that bloke?”

“If I thought that all he wanted from you was just a pleasant conversation, I’d have left you to it,” he responded, sharply. All the rigid politeness that had surrounded their first meeting was gone now, replaced by pent up frustration. “He’s been undressing you with his eyes all night. I didn’t trust him.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you serious? What should it matter to you? I thought I bored you? I thought - "

“I still . . . !” he cried, stopping himself before he said too much. Taking a deep breath, he continued; “I care about you, Lottie.”

Despite the bracingly cold wind making her hair stand on end, her cheeks burned, and she suspected that if she was a cartoon character steam would have been pouring out of her ears. Shaking her head, she wanted to turn her back on him, but instead met his intense gaze, as though she was testing him. “_Don’t._ You don’t get to have an influence over me anymore. After what happened with us, you don’t get a say in who I spend my time with.” She was surprised at how coherent she was being; whilst she was far more free with her words than she’d have liked, saying exactly what was on her mind rather than mulling it over, she was still managing to string a sentence together, which was a miracle and a half.

Sidney cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed. “You weren’t actually going to go with that man, were you?” Was their a hint of jealousy to his tone?

She shrugged before she could stop herself. “Maybe!”

“What about Stringer?”

“Oh for God’s sake, he’s just a friend!” The alcohol in her system was preventing her caring about the flimsy charade - in fact, she was amazed that she had kept it up for so long. “I didn’t want you to see me and think I couldn’t get over you. James offered to come along anyway, for support, and the idea to pretend to be a couple just seemed . . . well, it just seemed smart. At the time.”

Sidney, who she thought would have turned his nose up at the whole scenario, deeming her to be pitiful, instead smiled. He took a small step towards her, minuscule really, though she felt all the air get sucked from her lungs. “And are you? Over me, I mean.”

Her brain was screaming _‘say no! say no!’_ but of course, thanks to the tequila slammers, she was unable to lie. He was stood so close, his distinctive tobacco and sandalwood smell was intoxicating, he looked _so damn good_ in that suit, that her body was betraying her common sense. “How could I ever get over you? You were the best thing to ever happen to me.” Her honesty was clearly not what he had been expecting, but was delighted by it all the same. He reached a hand out, as though to caress her face or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but she was too quick for him, and stumbled backwards. “You were also the worst thing to happen to me.”

This appeared to wound him, a lump forming in his throat. He lit his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from her. She could see his hand was shaking a little, though was that simply because he was cold?

“I think I’m going to . . . I want to lay down,” she finally said, after standing and shivering in silence for a while.

Putting out his cigarette, Sidney nodded. “Where are you staying? I’ll walk you back.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She sighed, not having the energy to argue with him about it.

She started to stride down the lane, ensuring that she was a good few feet in front of him. Still clutching her arms to her chest, she kept rubbing her hands up and down the exposed flesh, hoping the friction would warm her. “Wait, here. Have this.” Sidney placed his suit jacket over her shoulders, the material still body-warm. Tailored to his measurements, the jacket only engulfed her, and reminded her of that fateful night, five years ago, when he’d given her his jacket, and they’d first kissed in that alleyway. The memory tainted by their agonising break-up, she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Still your trademark way of picking up girls I see,” she heard herself say. “I suppose the lack of bridesmaids rather limits your options at this wedding, so I’m some kind of last resort.”

Sidney laughed again. “You looked cold. That dress is hardly weather-appropriate.” That wasn’t an answer.

Continuing to walk into town, Charlotte snorted. “I was hardly going to look like a nun our first meeting, was I? Wanted to remind you what you were missing.”

“You could have worn a potato sack and I still wouldn’t have been able to keep my eyes off you,” he replied. It was hard to decipher if he’d said that comment in jest, or if genuinely thought it. “And trust me, I am more than aware of what I’m missing.” Goosebumps prickled all over her skin, and it wasn’t due to the cold weather.

They continued to walk into town, though at some point Charlotte had kicked off her heels and was holding them in one hand. To any passersby they must have looked like a bickering couple; her marching ahead, determined not to look behind, and him following dutifully behind like a kicked puppy. When they reached her bed and breakfast, she was glad to be rid of him, as she was getting far too comfortable in his presence, and feared she’d continue to spill the beans on the last five years.

Shrugging off his jacket, she handed it to him, brusquely. She wanted to cooly step inside, not saying a word, but found that her upbringing had instilled an impulse to always say please, thank you, and sorry - even when it wasn’t necessary. Frowning, she turned to head in, when Sidney stopped her.

“Can I come and see you tomorrow?” he asked her, his voice suddenly so small and quiet.

“I’m getting the train at lunchtime,” she told him. She really hadn’t been expecting him to ask to see her. She’d thought that their one meeting at the wedding was awkward and excruciating and uncomfortable enough that neither would want to do it again.

“In the morning then,” he continued. “Please, Lottie. There’s some things . . . some things I need to say.”

No matter how much she knew she’d regret her answer in the morning, she found that she couldn’t say no, especially when he used her nickname. Nodding, she watched his weary features light up. “How about ten o’clock, by the pier?”

“That would be . . . yes, that sounds . . . that’s great. Thank you."

The whole interaction felt clumsy, which unnerved her as she remembered Sidney to a self-assured and confident young man. Seeing him now, he looked wracked with nerves, could see him itching for another cigarette. Feeling light-headed and somewhat nauseous, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open. “Goodnight, Sidney."


	3. 2024: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte makes good on her promise and goes to meet sidney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the delay! i'm currently moving houses, so i've been writing every chance i could get, but have been unable to meet my own deadlines. i appreciate every single person who takes the time to read this, it really makes my day to see new comments.
> 
> i hope you all enjoy this new chapter!

** _22nd December, 2024_ **

Charlotte was sat at one of the few breakfast table, head in her hands, a piping hot black coffee in front of her, when Gigi and James came rushing in, looking slightly less haggard than she did. Taking the other seats at the table, they were quick to bombard her with questions, all of which proceeded to make her headache ten times worse.

“Where did you go last night?”

“Who were you with?”

“You weren’t with _him_ were you?”

“What did he say to you?”

“Did he try and make a move?”

“Tell me you didn’t do something stupid!”

Eventually she groaned, which ceased their interrogation. Wearily, she took a sip of her coffee, allowing the bitter liquid to awaken her senses and make her feel just that bit more human. She knew her friends were just looking out for her - which was, admittedly, _exactly_ what she had asked them to do when she invited them as her plus ones to the wedding - however she’d spent the whole morning beating herself up over the way she had behaved at the reception, drinking as much as she did, that she didn’t want to relive it all over again.

“He just walked me home,” she sighed, bracing herself for the onslaught of scolding.

“How could you be so naive!” Gigi exclaimed, the bags under her eyes telling of a good night. “He probably just wanted to get in your pants!” A couple of other guests gave them dodgy looks at her comment, a few even sniggering. Charlotte shushed her friend, brow furrowed. Gigi, however, persisted - she wasn’t one to do as she was told. “I’m right, though! James, isn’t it true men only do nice things for girls they fancy?”

At the suggestion James blushed a deep pink colour and was markedly avoiding eye contact with Charlotte. “Well . . . no, of course not . . . I mean . . . no,” he stammered, deciding on his answer after fumbling through his sentence. Gigi’s eyes flicked between him and Charlotte, as if she knew something they didn’t.

Oblivious as ever, Charlotte didn’t click on to what was happening. Instead, she finished her coffee, and got up from the table. “Look, I’ve agreed to meet him. It’s to draw a line under everything, so I can move on. I appreciate you both being here for me, so much, but I have to do this. Alone.”

Before they could object, she headed back towards her room, where she sat down in front of the vanity mirror with a big sigh.

After applying a thin layer of concealer, a quick brush of mascara, and the tiniest hint of blush, she left for the pier for her meeting with Sidney. Every footstep felt heavy, and every time she reached a corner, or had to cross the road, she considered going back to the bed and breakfast and just calling off the encounter altogether. Now she was sober, her mind no longer cloudy, she began to realise what a bad idea it had been to say yes. She didn’t owe him anything - she hadn’t been the one in the wrong.

However, some small part of her wanted the explanation. She wanted to know what had happened. _He owed her that_, at the very least. Besides he had seemed somewhat embarrassed about how things had been left five years ago, perhaps even a little remorseful. He’d said certain things, multiple times, that had made her think there was more to their break-up than he had simply ‘gotten bored’.

Suppressing her nerves, she continued to walk along the seafront. Her heart rate was skyrocketing and her palms were sweaty. She was wearing a cosy oversized knitted jumper in a bright coral colour, grateful for the warmth it was giving her. She had to throw her hair up, as the sea breeze was blowing her curls about her face so she couldn’t see where she was going.

The second she saw a figure moving beside the pier, she instinctively knew it was Sidney; though, the lingering cloud of smoke above him was a big giveaway. He was looking out at the sea, a cigarette between his lips, one hand in his pocket. If she didn’t know him at all, she’d have thought he looked incredibly relaxed, almost as if he were taking a dog out for a walk or something. However, there was a moment in time when she thought she knew him better than anyone, and his whole demeanour appeared tense and jittery, reminiscent of somebody in a job interview.

As she stepped onto the shingle beach, the pebbles clattering together, she caught his attention. His head snapped around, and instinctively he put out the cigarette - like a schoolboy worried he’d been found out by the headmaster. He didn’t look nearly as wretched as she did, though he’d always been better at holding his liquor.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said, sounding relieved, a smile stretching across his features that made him look horrendously handsome.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did you not think I’d not show up?” Her words came out a lot harsher than she wanted them to, almost like an accusation, and made Sidney panic a little.

“I wouldn’t have . . . I wouldn’t have blamed you . . . truly, I wouldn’t have,” he stammered.

This was a side to Sidney that she’d only seen when they were together, a nervous and shy version of himself that he hid from the rest of the world. It made her tough exterior crack a little, and her walls started to crumble. He only had to call her - 

“Lottie,” - and she felt herself melt. “It means a lot that you’re here. I don’t deserve this . . . second chance, but . . . but . . . God, I had a whole speech in my head and it’s just gone.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “You could start by telling me what really changed your mind that night,” she told him. All the confidence of the night before had gone, and she stood fiddling with her hands, chipping at the nail polish. “Was it that you were using me to make Eliza jealous, so when she realised what she was missing that was when you decided we were done?”

Sidney looked aghast, his eyes wide. “No, God no - is that what you thought?”

Charlotte let out a weak chuckle. “I mean, you told me you were bored of me, and then minutes later she shows up at your flat. You even married her months later! What the _fuck_ was I supposed to think?”

She expected him to look caught out, like a deer in the headlights, but instead he looked despairing, almost as if he was holding back tears. He shook his head, frantically. “I didn’t want you to see her, I didn’t want you to think - " He shook his head again, realising that he wasn’t choosing the right words. He took a deep breath, and started again. “You remember that phone call I had, from Tom? He had a problem. A huge problem. His main backer, the Denham woman, the one he was rebuilding Sanditon with, had troubles within her own company and was forced to file for bankruptcy. She recalled all her loans from him, leaving him in debt. Serious, serious debt. He had other loans he had to repay, other backers who pulled out when they realised that the project was failing.”

“But it didn’t fail?” she blurted out. She was struggling to understand the correlation between this story, and why he chose Eliza over her.

“Well, exactly,” Sidney sighed. A pained expression crossed his face, as though remembering a rather nasty incident. “Tom called me that night to tell me that he’d found a new backer, someone who’d expressed great interest in the project who was willing to fund the repayment of all the loans - Eliza’s father. However, he wanted a claim to the company, more than any shares that were available on the market.”

A lump formed in her throat as the end to his tale suddenly dawned on her. “Oh.”

“Tom thought I was still seeing Eliza,” he continued, jaw clenched. "I hadn’t told him about you. We’d agreed to keep it between us - and I’m not blaming you! I agreed it was the right thing to do.” He must have seen her narrowed expression, and hastily amended his words. “Tom knew I was happy though. He’d even said multiple times he couldn’t remember a time when I was happier, and he thought it was because I was with Eliza. He told her father that he suspected I was going to propose after we’d graduated. Seeing a way in, her father implied that if the marriage was to happen soon, Tom could have all the money he needed and more.” He reached out for her hand, the desperation in his voice painfully clear. She flinched, out of habit really, which only hurt them both more. “Please, believe me, if there had been any other way for Tom to save the company I would have found it. There was . . . there was nothing else. I couldn’t let him down. Not with Mary, and the kids - "

Surprising them both, Charlotte placed a hand over his, and squeezed. It was a gesture of comfort. She felt so sick that she’d (tried to) hate him for so long because she thought he’d callously discarded her for someone shinier, when in truth he was doing his best to look after his family.

“You could have told me,” she muttered, softly. She pulled back her hand, the feel of him clouding her mind again. She needed to think straight. They had started to walk, aimlessly, in an attempt to keep warm. She was relieved of the opportunity to not have to look at him, instead focusing her attention to the endless sea that stretched out in front of them. 

“I didn’t want you to fight for me,” he explained, then screwed his face up. “That sounded arrogant. I mean, I didn’t want you to worry about Tom, and Mary, and the kids. I didn’t want you thinking that I was . . . _selling myself_.”

“I would have fought for you,” she admitted, sincerely. No use hiding her feelings now, not when everything was coming out in the open. “I wouldn’t have let you go through with it. Not for me, but for you. Trapped like that - or, were there feelings between you two?”

“Good God no,” he assured her. “There had only ever been lust between us, but that had dissipated after I’d met you. I didn’t try and fool her either, she knew I didn’t love her.” What did he mean by after he’d met her? She had so many questions, but allowed Sidney to just talk; it appeared as though he had plenty of things he wanted to get off his chest. “We tried, I suppose. We went on dates to see films, went out for dinner, but there was absolutely nothing between us. By the time we were married we could go whole days without uttering a single word to one another. Two and half years into our sham of a marriage, I caught her with somebody else, some guy from her gym. I’d suspected she’d been having affairs, but hadn’t cared enough to investigate. She wasn’t sorry, either. Carried on seeing people. It was only when she met some German billionaire on a ski holiday that she asked for a divorce. That was nearly a year and a half ago now.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It sounded like a plot from a _Midsomer Murders_ episode; all that was missing was an _actual_ murder. “How could you stand being married to her for so long? Especially if she was having affairs?”

At this question Sidney glanced over at her, a faint smile on his lips. “I supposed it never bothered me because . . . well because I was in love with somebody else,” he told her. “Eliza knew it. She put up with me until somebody better came along. Somebody richer.”

Her breathing was unsteady, her heart beating erratically inside her chest. She stopped walking and looked up at him, mouth agape. “You were in love?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “With you.”

She couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping her lips. Completely and utterly speechless, she searched for something, anything, to say, but came up short. He saw her struggling and took her hand again - this time, she didn’t flinch.

“I don’t expect you to say it back, not after how I treated you,” he said, gently. A glint of hope flashed in his eyes as he stepped a little closer. “I remember how we were, before. I remember how I felt. I was madly in love with you. Had been since our second date when you wore that Dorothy costume to Esther’s Halloween party. You lit up that night, chatted to everyone and danced to every song that I just knew I didn’t want to be with anyone else.” They both smiled at the memory. Sidney took a deep breath, and squeezed her hand - it was almost as if he was checking she was real. “Lottie, I still love you. Never stopped. Just when I thought I could get over you Alicia and Jenny would show me some books you’d bought them, or Mary would tell me you got an award at university, or I’d see you tagged in a post online, and the feelings would all come flooding back.”

When she had laid awake the previous night thinking about this conversation, tossing and turning, her stomach churning with nerves, this was certainly not how she had suspected it would go. She’d expected far more shouting, far more tears - not a confession of love. Her shock was still prevalent, her lips trembling ever so slightly. Finally, she began to string a sentence together.

“The last five years have been . . . difficult,” she admitted, her voice hoarse. “You were this force in my life, made me feel so alive. When you . . . when you left, you broke my heart. I haven’t been able to find anyone . . . at all . . . who’s made me feel the way you did. It’s as if my heart had been frozen over, and only thawed out when . . . when you just told me you love me.”

At this Sidney swallowed, his grip on her hands tightening a little, as his eyes lit up. “Lottie - "

“I woke up yesterday morning in my boss’s bedroom,” she continued, pulling her hand free, dabbing at the tears that were now falling down her face. “I got drunk at the office Christmas party and left with him. I don’t know why, I never planned it - I don’t even like the bloke. That’s not the first time I’ve done something that stupid either. I slept with my professor at university. I've slept with friends’ brothers. I've slept with strangers in bars.” She couldn’t explain why she was spilling the details of her sordid history with him, she just felt the overwhelming urge to tell him just how much she has struggled without him; _because of him_. "I’ve tried relationships, I really have. Me and James did date, and he was sweet, but there was no love there. He . . . he wasn’t you. He couldn’t compare to you. No one can. It’s as if you locked my heart up to stop me from loving anyone else, and then took the key with you.”

A range of emotions were crossing Sidney’s face; hope still lingered in his eyes (she did somewhat reciprocate his feelings after all), fear that there was a ‘but’ coming, guilt that he was the reason for her distress, and pain, an unbelievable amount of pain.

“You made me feel as though there was something wrong with me when you dumped me. Made me feel that I wasn’t enough. What you said to make me leave . . . you spoke aloud everything that I’d been insecure about, everything I was terrified people thought. You didn’t trust me to tell me the truth, and instead you thought ripping my heart out was the better option? The easier one? I can never forgive you for that.”

She hated crying, but especially hated crying in front of people. Rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands, her nose disgustingly runny and her face undoubtedly blotchy, she wanted to turn her back on him so he couldn’t see how hideous she looked. However, it was important that he saw the extent of her heartbreak, the consequences of his actions - no matter how noble they might have been at the time.

“You asked for a second chance? That’s why you’re here, to tell me you love me and that now you’re free from Eliza we can pick things up where they left off?” She cocked her head to the side, her voice cracking. “I want to say yes. My immediate answer will _always_ be yes.”

“Then say yes,” he whispered. “The only thing that matters now is my love for you, and your love for me.”

Charlotte shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I’m not the same girl I was. It will never be the same between us.” Sidney thought she was going to say no, she could see the light starting to leave his eyes, tears of his own bubbling to the surface. She drew a shaky breath and met his gaze. “Give me time. I want to make sure that . . . I’m doing the right thing, letting you in again.”

Before she turned and left she planted a delicate kiss to his cheek, but he moved ever so slightly at the last minute so she caught the corner of his mouth. His stubble grazed her lips, his skin warm and familiar. It took every ounce of her resolve to step away, leaving him stood on the pebbles behind her.

** _New Years Eve, 2024_ **

Charlotte stumbled out of the doorway of _Serendipity_, a club in Soho that Gigi had been raving about for months. Personally, she didn’t think it was that fantastic; it was brimming with people more interested in finding good lighting for an Instagram post than actually enjoying themselves. After a couple of extremely overpriced cocktails and a spin around the dance floor with her friends, she retreated outside for a breath of fresh air. Initially, Gigi had insisted that James accompany her, trying to warn her about the dangers of London at night, however Charlotte assured them she would be alright by herself.

In truth, Gigi’s attempts to push the pair back together were now becoming insufferable. At first, they were somewhat subtle, but now they were glaringly transparent. She cared for James, she truly did, but she didn’t love him the way he wanted to be loved.

Her desperate need for fresh air was in part due to the overwhelming smell of liquor, a concoction of overpowering perfumes and aftershave, and the faint tang of vomit, and also because she wanted to be alone for a moment.

As she stepped outside, she welcomed the invigorating winter air. She’d worked up quite a sweat dancing, especially pressed in such close capacity to other people around her, that the cold was a blessing. However, with the relief of cooling down, she began to take notice of other things that were ailing her. They’d been out for a few hours, and her feet had started to ache in her pastel blue heels. Also, her mouth was dry and her stomach had started to rumble. A quick scan of the street brought a cosy looking coffee shop to her attention. An orange neon light hung in the window, and she could just make out the faint outlines of people moving around. Without a moment’s hesitation she crossed the road and hurried inside.

As it was an independent coffee shop, she found herself delighted by the types of drinks on offer. Unable to make her mind up, she stood with her hand pressed to her chin for a while, squinting at the chalkboard. “It’s too hard to choose!” she exclaimed, making the barista smile. “What would you recommend?”

“The peppermint hot chocolate is rather spectacular.” She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Sidney who had spoke. He was sat in a snug armchair by the window, legs crossed, the aforementioned hot chocolate on the table in front of him, steam rising from the mug. “You always did like anything minty.”

Charlotte couldn’t ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, her lips curling into a bright smile.

“It’s limited edition too,” the barista chimed in, oblivious to the reunion unfolding in front of him. “It’ll have gone in a few days.”

Flushing a little, Charlotte ordered the drink - large, of course - and fumbled for her credit card in her purse. “Please, let me,” Sidney offered, stepping up and handing over a five pound note before she could object. He gestured for her to sit at his table, then faltered. “Unless, you don’t want to. I won’t be offended, truly.”

She thanked him for the drink, and perched herself in the opposite chair. “No, I don’t mind.”

“You look good,” he complimented, making her blush again. He didn’t appear quite as confident as he usually was, his whole demeanour a little jittery.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she beamed. “Thank you. It’s an old dress. Thought the sequins were a bit much really, but it is New Years Eve so . . . " Her voice trailed off.

An awkward silence fell over them whilst she waited for her drink to be made. They stole glances at each other, blushing and looking away when their eyes met. He looked very dashing, wearing a smart white shirt and checkered beige trousers. A matching suit jacket was folded behind him on the back of the chair. He’d trimmed his beard, which somehow made him look five years younger.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, finally, after the barista had brought her hot chocolate over.

“I’m meeting Crowe and Babington outside at eleven,” he replied, dipping a finger into his own hot chocolate and licking off the whipped cream in a rather provocative manner. “We’re going to _Serendipity_, that club just over there, although I’m not really in the mood. I have half a mind to just head home.”

“You wouldn’t be missing out on anything,” she said, copying him in using her finger to taste the cream. He was watching her, his gaze intense, and she could have sworn he shuddered. “I’ve just come out of there for some fresh air. I found it didn’t really live up to the hype.”

He chuckled slightly, a sound she hadn't realised she missed sorely.

Uncomfortableness began to settle in again, a feeling Charlotte despised, so decided to rip the plaster off and dive straight in; they were both clearly recalling back to their last discussion. “I’ve been thinking about you,” she told him, fiddling with the rings on her finger.

Sidney shot forward, shaking his head. “We don’t have to talk about this now,” he began, gently. “It’s only a coincidence we’ve bumped into each other, you’re probably not ready - "

“I know what I want to say,” she assured him, in a voice so steady and bold that she surprised herself. He sat back in his seat, and took a deep breath. Nerves were beginning to rattle him, his gaze down at his hands, jaw clenched. Did he expect the worst? “I understand why you did what you did to make me leave. I’m not mad at you for leaving, not anymore. Rather, I’m angry at how you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was really going on, even when I knew there was something about that phone call. We could have worked something out, found a better solution. Instead you made the decision for us and broke my heart. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. I can’t forgive you for that.”

Where most men, or most people, would have jumped in trying to defend themselves, completely diminishing what she was saying and invalidating her feelings, Sidney simply sat there and listened. He looked terrified, and tears were threatening to spill again, but he let her talk, let her get what she needed to off her chest, even if it wounded him. His humility made her certain she’d made the right choice.

“But I can’t stop loving you, Sidney. I’ve tried, and I’ve tried - _God, I’ve tried_ \- but I can’t. I thought there was something wrong with me because I couldn’t get over the ex who’d humiliated and hurt me, that I’d put you on such a monumental pedestal that nobody could compare, when all along you’ve been this . . . this selfless bloke who would do anything for his family. I’m left rethinking the last five years, and wondering if I can go on without you.”

At her confession his head lifted, his dark chestnut eyes fixing to hers, brow narrowed. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you and I want to be with you, you idiot,” she laughed.

Sidney bound out of his chair and hoisted her out of hers with such ease, lifting her so that he could spin her around, euphoric. She continued laughing until he set her down, his hands still around her waist. They were breathing heavily, their chests heaving to the same rhythm. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, Charlotte pressed her lips to his, her hands either side of his face, pulling him down to her. They kissed with the same hunger, same passion, that told of years of longing. She could taste the peppermint on his tongue; he was right, she did adore anything minty. He was holding her close to him, his hands clinging to her as if she might float away.

They broke apart only when the barista behind the counter coughed, timidly informing them he intended to close up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise the next chapter won't take so long! also, i can't seem to get rid of the duplicate notes below?


	4. 2029

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five years on from their reconciliation, how are sidney and charlotte faring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short and sweet one to wrap up this story! i've loved writing this, and i've really appreciated all the support and kind comments i've received. for such a small and new fandom, everyone is so welcoming and lovely!
> 
> please enjoy, and let me know what you'd like to read next!

** _25th December, 2029_ **

Charlotte adored being pregnant; the interest from strangers, the complimentary seats on public transport, and the way her bum had doubled in size, however she despised the fact she couldn’t fit into ninety-five percent of her wardrobe. That included her favourite burnt orange dress, with an exquisite floral pattern. Scanning the wardrobe, stood in her underwear, she huffed and grumbled, trying to find something interesting enough to wear to a family gathering.

Her maternity clothes were lovely, and she’d bought several dresses knowing she’d be wearing them over the Christmas period. However she hadn’t predicted that her bump would grow to quite the size it had, due to the fact she only discovered she was carrying twins a few months ago. That rendered two thirds of her wardrobe unwearable, meaning she was left with an ugly nightie-looking dress, or a long-sleeved, black maxi dress with a cowl neckline that seemed better suited to a funeral than a Christmas dinner. Cursing under her breath, she pulled it rather roughly off the hanger and threw it on. Walking over to the mirror, she regarded her reflection with disdain.

Her husband appeared behind her in the mirror, looking as handsome as ever in a tight-fitting navy shirt tucked into a smart pair of jeans. He gave her a warm smile, their eyes locking, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “You look great, darling,” he assured her, softly.

“I look like a sofa cushion,” she moaned, even pouting a little, leaning back into his chest.

Sidney laughed, reaching his other hand round to rest on her belly. Almost at once she felt more at ease in his arms. “I mean it. You look so damn sexy,” he muttered, his deep voice reverberating through her body, making her shudder. “How is it I still want to rip this dress off and ravish you right here and now?”

“_Don’t,_” she warned him, turning to face him, biting her lip. His hands were still glued to her, lying on her hips, his gaze intense. “That’s how we got here in the first place.” She looked down at her belly, which was keeping him at too far a distance from her.

Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her mouth, a teasing brush of the lips that always left her wanting more. She reciprocated the gesture, until they were locked together in a blazing embrace, her hands even sliding up his shirt. As had become expected, they were caught in the act by their three-and-a-half year old son, Archie, who stood horrified in the doorway.

“They’re doing it again!” he called out, his nose wrinkled.

Sidney swooped down and scooped his son up into arms, hoisting him above his head. Archie began to giggle, as his dad made airplane noises, pretending that they were a pair of fast jets. Satisfied that Archie was dressed, wearing his new dinosaur jumper from Auntie Allison, Charlotte went to find their two year old daughter, Rose, in the adjoining room. She was at that awkward age where she could be rather temperamental, liking one thing one week and utterly hating it the next; getting her to eat anything was a complete nightmare.

As predicated, she found Rose sat on the bed, peeling off her purple tights. She looked up at her mum and frowned, her infantile features looking rather comical. “What’s wrong baby?” Charlotte asked her, perching herself on the little bed.

“Don’t like them,” Rose answered, huffing - much like her mum had been moments before. The irony wasn’t lost on Charlotte. “Scratchy.”

“Are they?” Charlotte ran a hand up her daughter’s leg, and made a purring sound like a cat. “They’re so soft! I want a pair! Do you think they’ll fit me?”

As she started to tug at them, gently, Rose hurriedly began to pull them back up her legs. “No! You have giraffe legs!” Usually Charlotte would have scolded her daughter for raising her voice and not sharing, but she couldn’t stop laughing at the giraffe comment. Also, it was Christmas; she was allowed some leeway.

Now content with her tights, Rose handed her mum a hairbrush. “Make me pretty mummy!” she giggled.

“You’re already so gorgeous sweetie,” Charlotte told her, but began to run the brush through Rose’s hair anyway. She’d inherited her unruly, chestnut curls, which meant a lot of maintenance. Her belly was too big to allow Rose space to sit on her lap, so she stood in front of her, arms dangling by her side. When she’d finished, Charlotte planted a kiss atop her head. “Perfect.”

Rose twirled around and pressed a sloppy kiss to her mum’s cheek, then she rushed off to find her brother. Charlotte struggled to lift herself off the bed, her weight coupled with the low distance to the ground made for an impossible situation. Fortunately, Sidney heard her groaning, and came bounding in to help pull her up. As he balanced her, she realised he’d put on a horrendously ugly Christmas jumper, with three-dimensional pom-poms in the shape of Christmas puddings sewed on everywhere.

Noticing her looking at it, he flashed her a big grin. “I know you’re feeling a little insecure - though you shouldn’t be,” he explained. "People will be too busy looking at my jumper to comment on your dress.”

Her heart burst, his compassion one of things that made her fall in love with him. She kissed him again, unable to help herself. It was quick and tender, his hand brushing her cheek. “I love you so much,” she told him, looking deep into his rum-coloured eyes.

“Not as much as I love you,” he replied, planting soft kisses all over her face. After four years of marriage he still managed to give her butterflies.

“Again!” cried Archie, hands held aloft.

Sidney chuckled, as he hoisted him up into his arms. Rose came hobbling along, still admiring her periwinkle legs. She spotted her brother in her dad’s arms and wanted to join in. Tugging on the hem of her mum’s dress, she pleaded to be picked up. Charlotte tried to bend down, but found it hopeless. Rushing to her aid once again, Sidney scooped up Rose, and balanced both children on his hips.

They all had their shoes on, and as they made their way to the door of the bed and breakfast, Charlotte stopped them, whipping out her phone. “Let mummy take a quick picture,” she called out, the sight of her two children in her husband’s arms too precious to pass up.

At the mention of a photograph, Archie and Rose beamed widely, all wobbly teeth and bright eyes. As she looked at the screen, at her perfect and beautiful family, she couldn’t believe how lucky she was. They were everything she had hoped for, everything she had wanted, and more. It was remarkable really, how much her children resembled her and Sidney. Archie looked exactly like his dad, from his brooding eyebrows to his full lips, though had his mum’s dimpled chin, whilst Rose was a miniature carbon copy of her mum, with her dark curls and almond shaped eyes, though was already tall like her dad.

Sidney, after they’d strapped the children into their car seats, helped his wife into the car; he even buckled her seat belt for her. As he started the car and began the short drive to his brother’s house, Charlotte rested her hand against her bump. “Can you believe the twins are due any day now?”

“I’ve thought of some more names, if they're girls,” he told her, reaching out to place a hand on her thigh. “Jane and Darcy.”

Charlotte cocked her head to the side, feeling her heartstrings get tugged - Jane was his mother’s name. “They’re perfect.” She even had a lump in her throat as she answered. “How about George or Elliot if they’re boys?” George was his father’s name.

“You are wonderful,” he simply said, sounding as though he had a lump forming too.

They arrived at Tom and Mary’s in less than fifteen minutes. As they pulled up on the driveway, the door swung open. Ten year old James came running out, opening the door for his Aunt Lottie, thirteen year old Henry not far behind, insisting he be the one to help her out of the car. The pair of them were jostling with one another, arguing over who got to hold Charlotte’s hand, wearing matching Christmas jumpers. Alicia, now an elegant seventeen year old, wasn’t far behind them, urging them to be careful.

“Hiya Aunt Lottie, hiya Uncle Sid,” she greeted, cheerfully. Holding her brothers apart, she instructed them to take one of Charlotte's hands each, so that they could both help her inside. “Love the jumper.”

Sidney, who was holding Rose in his arms, watching as Archie jumped out the car, grinned. “Where’s Jenny?”

“She got a new phone for Christmas,” Henry answered, sulkily. “Hasn’t put it down all day.”

“Didn’t you get a new PlayStation?” Charlotte pointed out, practically being dragged inside.

Henry shrugged. “It’s not a phone though, is it?”

Alicia helped carry the presents inside, whilst Sidney was in charge of rounding up the kids. He never took his eye off of Charlotte, who was struggling to get up the doorstep, despite having Henry and James clutching onto her. Fortunately, Arthur came rushing to her aid. Offering her his arm, he walked her in, gladly. They all walked towards the living room, where all the opened presents had been piled under the tree, only a few remnants of wrapping paper remaining. Charlotte sat down comfortably beside Vincent, who gave her two kisses on the cheek.

“My, my, you are radiant, Charlotte!” he exclaimed, as James wiggled his way in in-between them. “How many weeks now?”

“Thirty-seven,” she told him. Despite already giving birth to two children, she still got nervous at the prospect of being so close to her due date.

Clasping his hands together, Arthur squealed with excitement. “Any day now then! Oh, I can’t wait until there are more little Parkers running about.”

“Did someone mention little Parkers?” Diana Parker appeared in the doorway, five month old Harriet fast asleep in her arms, all bundled up in blankets. Diana had Harriet through artificial insemination after her thirtieth birthday and deciding that she wanted a child without all the hassle of finding a husband. She’d spent her whole childhood caring for Arthur that by the time she’d had a real baby, she was more than prepared.

Soon enough, the whole Parker family were sat in the living room. Sidney came in with Archie and Rose, after they’d been introduced to James’s new pet rabbit, Pepper. The pair of them were jumping for joy, describing the animal eagerly to her as if she’d never seen a rabbit before. Mary came rushing down the stairs, wearing a new emerald dress, the glittery beads catching on the light from the fireplace. She greeted them all, though was clearly most excited by the sight of a baby and a heavily pregnant woman.

“Gosh, Charlotte, you look ready to pop!” Tom cried out, as he came up behind his wife, holding a tray of glasses filled with prosecco for the adults (and Alicia, since it was Christmas), and beakers brimming with orange juice for the children and Charlotte.

“Tom!” Sidney and Mary scolded in unison.

Charlotte waved the comment off, as she clutched her belly. “No, it’s alright,” she muttered, suddenly rather uncomfortable. “I think the twins agree with you.”

Setting down his glass, Sidney bound over to her side, kneeling down in front of her. “Is everything ok?” His brow was knitted, his body rather tense.

The whole room held their breath, waiting for a reply. Was this is it? Were the babies on their way?

“They’re just wriggling around, that’s all,” she assured him, stroking his cheek softly.

At this all six of the seven Parker children - Harriet was far too young and too snug to care - ran over, each of them placing a tentative hand on her belly. As they felt the babies kick they gasped and laughed in delight, which eased some of her distress.

“That’s my baby brothers or sisters in there,” Archie proudly proclaimed.

-

Mary’s Christmas dinner was fantastic. The turkey was golden, the roast potatoes crispy, and the veg sweet. Her homemade gravy was a triumph, and her stuffing disappeared within minutes of it being set on the table. The crackers Arthur and Vincent had brought with them were a hit, with the trinkets revealed and swapped, all the paper hats worn, and all the jokes told - while the trinkets were actually rather useful, the quality of the jokes was rather questionable. Everyone polished off their dinner plates, stomaches almost as big as Charlotte’s.

As Tom and Vincent loaded up the dishwasher, Charlotte amused the rest of the Parkers by allowing the children to balance empty beakers on her belly.

“You’ve always been a natural with kids, Aunt Lottie,” Jenny said, setting her phone down for a rare moment. “I remember how good you were with us when we were little.”

Touched by the compliment, Charlotte smiled. “It helps that I come from a big family. Being the third oldest of fourteen gave me plenty of babysitting experience.”

“Fourteen - that still amazes me,” Mary muttered, shaking her head. “How are they all? How are your parents? I suppose they’re coming down soon, for the birth?

“They’re all great,” she replied. “Allison graduated university in the summer, Olly’s started primary school, and Mark’s just gotten engaged. Besides these lovely lot, I have ten nieces and nephews now. Mum and dad are spending Christmas with Will and the kids, so they’ll come down in the New Year.”

Just as Rose put a bowl of brussels sprouts on her mum’s belly, one of the twins gave a rather tenacious kick to her abdomen, and the bowl was knocked to the floor. Henry and James didn’t hesitate to clean up their cousin’s mess. Sidney, who was beside his wife, his arm on the back of her chair, put a hand on her bump immediately. “Are you sure you’re ok, my love?”

Drawing a sharp breath, she squeezed his knee, half for reassurance, half to release the pain. “They’re just getting restless,” she told him through gritted teeth. “I’m fine, I promise.” The babies kicked again, this time with more force, directly on her bladder. “On second thoughts, I’m going to need to pop to the toilet.”

Ever the gentleman, Sidney helped her up. She made her way towards the toilet. As she sat she held her belly, she tried to think back to when she was pregnant with Archie and Rose, and how she had known she was going into labour. The pains then had been much sharper, more frequent, whereas the discomfort she was feeling now was merely the twins preparing to leave the womb. They were getting antsy, wriggling around as they grew, the space becoming more and more limited. “Not long now,” she whispered to them, as had become a habit. It had been Sidney’s idea to talk to Archie in the womb, saying that he would get accustomed to his parents’s voices. He’d been right; whenever any of her children seemed agitated inside her, all one of them had to do was utter some soothing words and the babies would settle.

After finishing in the toilet, she closed the door behind her. Knowing her children were in good hands, she wandered into the kitchen to see if anybody needed a hand. Mary was wiping down the countertops, uttering something about men never doing it properly under her breath, when she spotted Charlotte.

“Can I help, sweetie?”

“No I’m ok, I was actually wondering if you were the one who wanted any help.”

Mary shook her head, squeezing Charlotte’s forearm. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done enough,” she replied. “I remember when I was in my third trimester with all four of mine - I would rarely leave my bed. You never cease to amaze me.”

“Says you, super mum,” Charlotte said, with a smile. “Did you know your sons rushed to help me out of the car?”

“Bless them,” Mary said, pulling that expression that all proud mums make. “Anyway, how’s work? I hear you have an exciting new project?”

Swiping a lone pig-in-a-blanket from the tray, she nodded. “It’s going well, actually,” she answered, amidst chewing. “James found us a new client in Hastings, to design a new pavilion for the seafront. It’s our first time branching out into public spaces so it’ll be a great learning opportunity.”

Since leaving _Blackburn & Davies_ nearly five years ago, Charlotte struggled to find an architecture firm in the city she liked. Too many were run by stuffy old men with outdated notions of women in the workplace - much like Blackburn himself - that she found her options rather limited. It was only when she considered moving away, to somewhere like Manchester or Portsmouth, that James Stringer suggested they start their own business. It was tough going at first, but with their contacts they began to forge a reputable partnership. Soon they were earning enough to open their own office in London, admittedly a small, rather dingy one.

“That sounds excellent, I’m so glad,” Mary smiled, as she switched on the dishwasher. The whirring began immediately, their chatter drowned out by the sound of soapy water splashing against the many dishes. Raising her voice slightly, she pointed towards the back door. “Oh, Sidney’s out in the courtyard. He asked me to send you after him.” As Charlotte made her way towards the door, Mary flashed her a rather playful wink that made her wonder why Sidney wanted to see her.

Sure enough, as she stepped outside she spotted her husband sat on a wooden bench, cigarette propped between his lips. It was his first one he’d had in a while, for he’d promised to cut down since they’d had children, with plans to eventually quit. The fact he was smoking now made her a little uneasy; he usually saved his rare cigarettes for when he was stressed. He had a hand behind his back, which she thought rather suspicious. He saw her approaching and rushed over to offer his arm to her, despite the short distance from the back door and the bench. She didn’t mind him being so over-protective, in fact she thought it was rather chivalrous. The ground was somewhat icy; one misstep and she’d go tumbling backwards.

“What are you doing out here, it’s freezing?” she asked him, sitting down. 

“I was hoping I could catch you alone,” he told her, a mischievous glint in his eye, his voice seductively low.

She mock gasped. “With your family just inside? My, my, you are bold.”

To her surprise, his cheeks tinged a little pink at her teasing. In perhaps what was the best decision, for they never could keep their hands off of one another, he ignored her comment. “Today’s been so hectic - in a fantastic way, don’t get me wrong,” he began, putting out the cigarette. “I knew we’d be up at the crack of dawn with the children, and seeing their faces as they unwrapped their presents was lovely, but it meant that we haven’t had a moment to ourselves. I . . . there’s something I’ve been meaning . . . something I want to ask you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Charlotte felt a little on edge. He was taking his time, and she felt herself grow suddenly very chilly. He’d been nothing but attentive and loving all day that she didn’t fear he was going to leave her, but was it something at work? Was it something to do with their family? Was somebody ill?

“How would you feel about . . . about moving here? Permanently?”

Charlotte let out a tremendous sigh of relief, as she reached out to clutch his hand. As the alleviation washed over her, she realised what he had asked her, and she gripped his hand, tightly, her eyes wide. “Oh my God, really? That sounds . . . that would be amazing!”

Sidney broke out into a dazzling smile, as he pulled his concealed hand from behind his back and opened it, revealing a small key. “OK, good, because I’ve bought us a house.”

She clasped her hands to her mouth, tears suddenly starting to well up. “A house?” she burst out, astonished. Currently, they were living in an incredible five bedroom apartment in Mayfair, as it was convenient for the pair of them who worked in the city. It had the most breathtaking views and was furnished impeccably, but it wasn’t the family home she’d always dreamed of. With two children and two more on the way, she’d hoped they’d at least have a garden to play in, somewhere to put up a swing set or for them to kick a ball around.

“We haven’t got to worry about our jobs,” he quickly assured her. “I spoke to Stringer and he’s more than happy for you to work from home, with the occasional commute to London for meetings. In time, you could potentially open a second branch here?”

Far too wrapped up in the notion of having a house, she hadn’t even considered what she’d do about work, so the fact that Sidney had was yet another wonderful thing about him. She was going to have to work from home for a good few months anyway, with four children all under the age of four, including two newborns, to care for.

“Do you remember that cottage on the seafront, right by the little church we were married in? The one with blue shutters and the sunflowers by the door? Well, it went on the market a few months ago, and I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He reached her and gently wiped her tears away. “I hope those are happy tears,” he joked.

Laughing a little, she nodded enthusiastically. “I just can’t believe how . . . lucky I am,” she told him, breathless. “I told you I loved that cottage. I pointed it out and said that it was my dream home. You . . . you remembered. You’re just perfect, Sidney. You really are.”

Emotions overcoming him too, Sidney blinked away his tears, as he interlocked his fingers with hers, their wedding rings glittering in the winter sunshine. “I’m the lucky one,” he admitted. “To think our little family, our . . . oh God our gorgeous children, it nearly . . . it nearly didn’t happen. Because of me.” His voice broke at that last sentence, his features contorting as he tried to hold back the tears.

Charlotte pressed a fierce kiss to his lips. “Don’t talk like that,” she said, in a soft voice. She brought his hand to lay over her belly, and then overlapped her own over his. “It’s because of you that we have the most brilliant children, with two more on the way. It’s because of you we have a fantastic house for our children to grow up in. It’s because of you I’m the happiest woman in the world. What happened in the past is forgotten. All that matters is that I love you and you love me.”

He grinned again, the radiant, handsome smile that had caused her to fall in love with him, and she kissed him again, short and sweet.

“Now, let’s get inside, I’m freezing,” she said, when she felt a her stomach lurch, a wetness spreading rapidly between her thighs. “I, uh, I also think I’ve just gone into labour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still can't get rid of that note at the bottom, so just ignore it!

**Author's Note:**

> for charlotte's orange dress, i pictured this; https://www.instagram.com/p/BtWFVkVBi6V/


End file.
